Chapter 67: Settling Accounts

"He's here!"

It wasn't just that one guy who shouted. The gun barrels of a dozen armed thugs turned in unison towards Clark inside the office.

However, Clark's reaction was more than just a step faster than these criminals.

As soon as they turned their gun barrels, Clark had already taken out his special black cloth, rolled it up, and with a flick, hit the window.

"Crash!"

With the sound of glass shattering, countless pieces of glass flew outwards, showering down on the armed thugs like a goddess scattering flowers.

The speed of the flying glass was extremely fast, not as fast as bullets, but comparable to flying knives.

With this move, two-thirds of the gangsters were injured, and the luckier ones were unable to continue aiming due to their comrades' instinctive dodging actions caused by injuries.

The enemy's determined gun formation was easily broken by Clark with a casual flick.

But this was not the end. As a secret base of the Hand, their armed forces obviously were not limited to these few people.

As Clark struck a blow, even more armed thugs, ninjas wielding samurai swords and throwing shurikens, rushed over from both ends of the corridor.

Clark didn't dare to delay. After striking a blow, his cloth rod swung again, directly collapsing the wall below the site. The shattered bricks and stones flew, flipping those already chaotic gangsters over.

After temporarily dealing with these opponents, Clark turned his cloth rod and hit the other side of the wall.

After breaking through human limits, Clark could now exert a combat power of around 2 tons. With a swing of his cloth rod, its power was enough to break gold and split stones. The walls between the offices in the factory were not very sturdy to begin with, and they collapsed in large sections with a single hit.

Our protagonist, taking advantage of the hole created by the explosion, directly entered another office, swung his cloth rod again, and executed two strikes.

The first strike shattered the glass, creating an area-of-effect attack similar to throwing knives.

The second strike was aimed at the wall below the window, once again sending bricks and stones flying as blunt weapon attacks.

After two consecutive strikes, neither the distant gunmen nor the close-range swordsmen could approach within a yard of Clark, being knocked over one after another.

At this time, Clark once again broke through the door leading to the third room.

In this way, using brute force to continuously move forward, Clark's advancement speed was not even slightly slower than that of an ordinary person running, and even faster.

In the blink of an eye, Clark had already breached nine rooms.

With another strike breaking through the wall, just as Clark was about to break into the tenth room, the warning in his heart appeared again.

He quickly pushed off the ground with his right foot, and with a "crack," the terrazzo tiles under his feet were crushed by this step, while Clark retreated at a faster speed than before.

At the same time, a sword and a knife, two cold lights, suddenly shot out from the broken wall, sweeping and stabbing towards Clark's upper body vital points!

Retreating, Clark violently swung his cloth rod, creating a whistling wind sound, and managed to strike towards the two attackers with the length of the rod, reaching them first despite acting later.

Surprised by Clark's quick reaction, the two attackers simultaneously retreated and stood still.

At this moment, Clark finally saw the faces of the two.

The elder holding the knife was the Gambler.

The other person was not Mrs. Gao, but the trench coat-wearing white man who had drifted in the Mercedes earlier. He was holding a Western longsword, now standing with the sword in front of his chest, naturally exuding an unmovable aura that made one dare not underestimate him.

After scanning the elder, Clark's gaze finally rested on the trench coat man, and he asked with curiosity, "I didn't expect to meet a master of Western swordsmanship here today. I'm very interested in remembering your name. Would you dare to state your name and fight again?"

Clark was deep in enemy territory, and the enemies would of course wish to waste more time talking to him, waiting for their armed subordinates to surround him.

Hearing this, the trench coat man proudly replied, "Barnaby Francis Xavier Barton!"

Saying this, Barnaby (hereafter referred to as Barnaby) sneered and then said, "If I'm not mistaken, you're Clark, the one who attended the hearing today, right?"

Clark frowned, "How did you know?"

"Heh heh, Martha's Fitness Club held an anniversary event, nearly a hundred Black Knights running around the streets. Plus, both you and that Clark like to play music. Is it hard to guess your identity?"

After fully demonstrating that he hadn't fallen for the "Not Under Me" skill, and that his IQ was completely online, Barnaby's face suddenly showed a mocking smile, "Do you know how your parents died?"

Clark's brows slightly furrowed, "Was it you?"

"Correct!" Barnaby coldly laughed, "They knew too much and took what they shouldn't have. Naturally, they had to go where they belonged."

Barnaby said this, of course, to anger Clark and make him reveal flaws.

However, how could he possibly expect that the current Clark was no longer the Clark of the past?

As a transmigrator, even if he was angry, it would only be righteous indignation, and he would not lose his composure.

However, to deceive the enemy, Clark still made his hands gripping the cloth rod tremble slightly, giving the impression that he was suppressing his rage.

On the other side, the Gambler, listening to their conversation, frowned slightly. He couldn't help wondering why those useless people hadn't surrounded them yet?

Could it be...

Just as this thought rose in his mind, suddenly a burst of gunfire came from below. It was Punisher holding two machine guns, crazily spraying bullets at the gangster gunmen and ninjas.

As the two were shocked, Clark had already bravely attacked, his cloth rod swirling like a dragon, directly enveloping both the Gambler and Barnaby.

Distracted by Punisher's sudden strong support, the two lost the initiative in Clark's sudden attack, but being two against one, they barely managed to hold their ground without falling into a disadvantage.

Meanwhile, seeing the stalemate here, Mrs. Gao also walked out of the monitoring room. However, as soon as she stepped out, she bumped into the calmly waiting Daredevil.

Among the members of the Avengers, only this guy was a bit more merciful and not suitable for mowing down enemies. His task was to just hold off Mrs. Gao, without needing to go for the kill.

Sensing trouble on Mrs. Gao's side, the Gambler immediately whispered to Barnaby, "Leave this kid to me. Go help Mrs. Gao."

Barnaby glanced at Clark's cloth rod, which was already covered in scars, nodded, and ran towards Mrs. Gao.

However, he had only gone halfway when "whoosh!" an arrow pinned to the ground in front of him, its tail still trembling slightly.

Turning his head, he saw Hawkeye standing ten meters away, looking at this man with complex emotions, and quietly asking, "Are you Barnaby?"